9. All The World's A Stage
"I hate swamps," Tasha growled under her breath. Only Medb was close enough to hear, and a few seconds later came a snort of amusement. The delay was beginning to worry Tasha as did the realization that the flashes of pain, noticeable even without her empathy, were coming at a faster rate.
"I prefer forests myself. I don't have to wear shoes then," she replied.
"Is that a Dalish thing?"
A heartbeat passed, then Medb shrugged. "You shems seem to appreciate shoes. I don't understand the appeal." The brief hesitations were getting more frequent. Tasha flashed out a hand to grab Medb's upper arm.
Quick as a snake, the elf twisted in the grip. "I can do something about the pain," Tasha muttered under her breath so the men wouldn't hear. They hadn't even noticed the pair had stopped.
Medb's eyes were guarded and wary. "Who says I'm in pain?" she asked suspiciously.
Tasha decided that honesty, or as much as she could manage without explaining her empathy, was probably the best policy. "I have some healing skills and I can feel it. I can help a little, I promise."
A battle flickered in the elf's green eyes before she nodded slowly. Tasha smiled comfortingly. "Okay. This is going to feel a little weird. But you're probably used to your Keeper's magic and I was Circle trained, so there will probably be a difference, although magic is all pretty much the same from here to- sorry, I'm babbling again." Tasha neatly slid her magic into what she figured was Medb's soul and promptly felt ill. It had the same "flavor" as Duncan and Alistair's shields, so likely originating from the same place, but whatever it was that strengthened the two Wardens was killing the elf.
"I know I'm dying," Medb said dully, though there was a flicker of fight in her eyes. "That's why I came here. Duncan said the Joining would heal this sickness. The Keeper kept me alive when I first got sick but…" she trailed off.
Tasha frowned, still trying to be delicate in her probing though she was painfully aware that she could never be considered delicate, especially not with healing. "No offense to your Keeper, but I have an advantage she doesn't."
"What?"
Combining a healing spell and a cleansing rune wasn't something she'd ever practiced, but she figured it was possible theoretically. The magic wasn't even the challenging part; that belonged to not screwing something up. With more care than she'd ever used in her life, she pulled her empathy into the mix and "healed" a cleansing rune onto Medb's soul.
The shock was instant and she staggered from the amount of mana it took. Medb shot out a hand to steady her. Finally, Alistair noticed their lagging, likely due to Tasha's use of magic, and jogged back. His armor clinked heavily though he didn't seem too burdened by the weight, another difference between his mail and the Templars' plate. His concern was noticeable but clearer than the mage had felt from the Warden since she'd met him. And he was loud. She recoiled a bit, trying to compensate for the sudden drain to her magic and Medb instantly stepped between the two.
"Are you all right?" he asked, staying a healthy distance from the elf, who stood with every muscle tensed to spring if he threatened Tasha in any way.
"Fine, just give me a moment." She started coughing as pain began to burn its way up her spine.
"Are you sure? Because your magic-"
Suddenly Tasha's temper snapped and ice exploded along the ground, crackling, forming over his metal booted feet and inching beyond.
Startled, Tasha let out a squeak, wrenching control back from her body, eyes shutting and every muscle braced. The ice receded. Still, there was no smite coming from the Warden, even though she could feel his fear and unease slicing through the shield over him. "I'm sorry," she said, voice tiny and eyes opening wide. Medb relaxed her stance though she was clearly still defensive. "I don't know what that was."
"Jory, Daveth, would you mind if I talk to these two privately? Alistair asked quietly, warm hazel eyes not leaving the mage's. They scuttled out of earshot. He waited a few more seconds before asking, "What was that?" Controlled. Cautious.
As Medb realized he wasn't just going to attack and he was actually going to talk, she straightened and stepped back so she was beside Tasha. "Medb is sick. I thought I'd be able to help her a little. I got training as a healer in the Circle." The mage dropped her gaze to his nose. They were close enough that she could see a small spattering of light freckles gracing it.
"So what happened?"
Tasha's jaw twitched. She didn't want to tell him about her magic. "I don't know," she said, the answer somewhat honest.
"Whatever she did, it helped," Medb spoke up, green eyes clear again. "The pain isn't nearly what it was and I can think again."
"I wasn't expecting the toll it would take on my magic," the mage explained, eyes flicking up to meet his before they went right back down to the tip of his nose. "I've never done anything that massive in one dose before. And then...I don't know. But you asking about my magic instead of me...Maferath's limp sword, it was like being back in the Circle and I never want to be chained like that again, where I'm a threat simply by existing." Then something finally connected and she stopped. Her eyes lifted to meet his and he blinked at the wonder and awe in them, two things he saw rarely and even rarer when referring to him. He fought the urge to wiggle uncomfortably. "You didn't smite me."
Alistair shrugged, eager for the movement. "You didn't attack."
She blinked, the emotions not fading from her slate grey eyes. "No, I don't think you understand. You didn't smite me. You're a Templar-"
"Former Templar and I never made the vows!"
"-and you didn't smite me. Even Cul-" she stopped the word with a light cough though she continued the thought in her head. Even Cullen would have put a smite down on her fast enough to have her head spin. Other Templars would have killed her where she stood because that loss of control, as far as they were concerned, was an attack and a weakness to demons, never mind that she'd passed her Harrowing and was completely disinterested at the thought of losing herself to be ridden by a demon for all of eternity.
"You didn't attack me," he repeated as though it were a simple matter. "Or Jory or Daveth. But mostly me. After all, I don't really want my face burned off by a fireball. Or my hair. That would be bad."
"Can't do fire magic so you're safe from fireballs. From me, at least." She gave him a tentative smile which he returned more warmly. There was silence for a few heartbeats while they stared at each other before Medb, loudly, brushed her armor off. They both jumped.
"Not that I wouldn't love to stand here until moss grows on us, but can we get a move on? I'd like to get through the Joining before I die of old age," Medb said, eyeing Alistair thoughtfully, who gave a snort. Amused.
"Ladies first." Alistair gestured out in front of himself. Tasha rolled her eyes and limped, feeling her muscles scream under both the physical strain and the mana fatigue.
Jory and Daveth met back up with them, Tasha noticing the anger and displeasure on their faces. They'd gotten into an argument. Neither said a word about it and after the display they'd just witnessed, she didn't want to push her luck. It didn't need to be a Templar's blade to kill her, after all, and neither man particularly liked her.
They continued on in silence, coming across the body of a missionary. Medb volunteered to search the body, ignoring the horrified expressions on the faces of their male companions. When she straightened and announced that she'd found nothing of importance, they moved on.
Quietly, she slipped a damp piece of paper into Tasha's hand, unslinging her bow in nearly the same motion. Quickly Tasha skimmed it, feeling a pang in her heart and a desire to help this missionary, even if she thought he was mad. But they were in the same swamp so if he was mad…
Agony. Fear. Tasha locked her knees to keep them from buckling under the weight of that feeling, thrown out of her thoughts.
"Patrol!" Jory called. The thrum of fear that sprouted from him didn't even distract her from trying to breathe through the second hand pain. "Dead."
That was when she saw the corpses. There were in various forms of mutilation and decay, armor rent and in a couple of instances nearly cleaved in two. The stench mixed with the general unpleasantness of the swamp and Tasha had to fight against the urge to heave. Medb hissed in a breath, going white. Daveth turned a sickening shade of green. Jory and Alistair just tightened their expressions though the emotions slapping her forced her to tighten the shield around her empathy.
The mage should have been horrified. These were her first actual dead bodies but for some reason, there as only a vague sense of relief and curiosity. Dead men didn't feel.
"Got a live one over here." Daveth rushed forward. That explain the pain.
"Grey Wardens?" the man grunted as the party approached. Where the patrol's death had barely affected her, this man had her taking a step back as soon as she saw him. He was covered in blood. At least some of it was his, but there were darker splatters on his armor that weren't from a human.
"How are you still alive?" she breathed, eyes wide as she inched closer. The man had left a trail of blood where he had crawled this far.
"Well, he's not half as dead as he looks," Alistair quipped, kneeling down. Tasha was about to snap at him but saw the fleeting pained expression on his face.
"I need… back to camp… Darkspawn…"
Without another word, Alistair pulled his pack off his back and started ruffling through it. Tasha crept forward until she could put a hand hesitantly on his. The Warden looked up, startled when she gently took the bandages from him.
"This probably won't feel pleasant," she warned lowly. She'd been told her healing magic was uncomfortably cold. What worried her was how the broken solder barely flinched when she pumped a little of her remaining mana into his wounds (channeled through a healing spell; she wasn't dumb enough to just stuff mana into a nonmagical body). It wasn't much, but she was fairly confident his insides wouldn't end up as his outsides, at least until he got to camp. The healers there could deal with him then. "Don't get stabbed again. You'd mess up my work and I'd have to freeze you to the ground to keep you still the next time."
The soldier eyed her as he shakily got to his feet. He limped away, carefully holding his belly. Jory had already started to snap at Alistair who was doing his best to remain calm. Tasha watched the exchange, growing more and more confused. "Hold up. If you can sense them, why don't we just avoid them?" she asked. "I mean, it's not like we're supposed to engage them." Four pairs of eyes stared at her. "What?" she asked self-consciously.
"You're not being serious, are you? Were you even listening to Duncan?" Jory asked incredulously.
"Nope," Tasha replied honestly. "I had other things on my mind."
"What could be more important that our commander's orders?" the knight asked, completely baffled.
Something flickered in the mage's eyes and she leaned in. "Magey things." She had to fight back a snicker when the man paled. He reacted to any mention of magic like the males in the tower had to women's troubles. In both instances, the reaction was hilarious and exasperating.
Jory sidled away, eyeing her with no small amount of dismay. Daveth moved closer to Tasha. "Why do you do that?" he asked quietly. "Rile him up, I mean."
Tasha blinked slowly. "For the same reason you flirt and act like you don't care. People expect it from you. We all have a role to play, whether or not that's who we are. You're the dastardly rogue. I'm the dangerous mage that flaunts what she can do." She noticed that she was worrying her robes again and made an effort to still her hands. Daveth only blinked in understanding before speeding up to walk beside Alistair.
The mage sensed rather than saw Medb move when the archer gently bumped her shoulder with her own, ignoring the slight flutter of sparks. "And I'm the savage," she murmured under her breath. "I get it."
Alistair held up a hand and everyone stopped dead in their tracks. It was then that she became aware of a faint tickle at the edge of her awareness, rippling across the Warden's weird shield. As soon as she noticed it, however, the sensation made her feel ill as it strengthened and seemed to pulse. "Darkspawn," Alistair muttered, drawing his sword.
AN: Well, thank you everyone who has followed or reviewed or favorited. You have no idea how grateful I am because it sort of lets me know what direction I should be going in. If there's something you like or dislike, please do not hesitate to let me know. I'm always looking to improve my writing. Or if you have any other random thoughts.As always a big thank you to my beta, asteracea.